


You Leave Me Breathless

by fifteenminutesoffame



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asthma attack, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Cap, Sick Peter, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifteenminutesoffame/pseuds/fifteenminutesoffame
Summary: Peter is staying with the Avengers while Aunt May is on a work retreat, and he's not about to let this opportunity go to waste. He's ready to prove he's not just some kid. Training with Cap is like living the dream - that is, until he comes in sick one day and has an asthma attack. That part is not so much living the dream.





	You Leave Me Breathless

When Peter wakes up in his room at the Avengers Tower, his first thoughts are usually filled with awe. He’s been staying at the Tower for two weeks now while Aunt May is gone in Pennsylvania on a work retreat, but it never fails to amaze him. Sometimes when Peter sees Nat in the kitchen preparing some kind of health food breakfast, or visits Mr. Stark in the lab, he’s filled with that same ‘OMG-I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life’ feeling. Not that Peter doesn’t love Aunt May, Ned, and MJ more than anything, but there’s a special feeling he gets when he stays at the Tower. Peter spent so long wondering if he’d ever be good enough that it’s a relief to finally be getting the training he needs - with some of the world’s best heroes, mind you. 

It’s just an added bonus that Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner (Bruce Banner!) have labs and equipment so beautiful he could cry. 

This morning is immediately different. 

When Peter wakes up this morning, his first thoughts are not on how amazed he is to be living with Captain America and Iron Man. He’s focused on the little rattle in his chest and the wet cough that follows. Peter’s nose feels as stuffed as it was that one time he and Ned decided to find out how many mini marshmallows could fit in a nostril (10, they discovered). 

Peter drags himself out of bed to look in the mirror. His face is flushed and a little sweaty, like it used to be when he was sick. This is the first time Peter has felt under the weather since before the spider bite. He thinks about telling Steve that he doesn’t feel well enough for the heavy training they usually do, but disregards the idea. Peter needs to be training, he needs to be doing everything he can to protect those who aren’t superpowered. The team already treats him differently because he’s 15. What kind of baby would they think he was if he stayed in because of a common cold?

Looking at the clock on his bedside table and realizing that he only had 20 minutes before he should be in the gym, Peter bends down to grab some clothes off of his floor. He adds nausea to the list of ailments as his stomach turns at the thought of a quick breakfast before training. Ignoring how crappy he feels, Peter lightly jogs down the long hallway and into the elevator. 

“Good morning, Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY says in her clear voice. “You seem to be wheezing. It is likely that you have a minor respiratory infection. You should return to bed immediately. I have the phone numbers of four delis nearby that will deliver chicken soup.”

Peter sighs. Mr. Stark had, half-jokingly, reprogrammed all the AI technology in the building to mother-hen him. Sam and Clint especially found this hilarious. If Peter didn’t love FRIDAY so darn much, he might have made more of a fuss. 

“No thanks, FRIDAY,” Peter responds, clearing his voice of mucus. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be ok.”

“You should at the very least tell Captain Rogers to shorten training for the day. You will only worsen your condition. Are you trying to seem ‘cool’ in front of your friends, Peter? It is always best to be hone-”

“I got it FRIDAY, thank you!” Peter practically runs out of the elevator once the doors open. He loves the team and thinks that Mr. Stark’s inventions are the coolest thing ever (Ned would pee himself if he ever talked to FRIDAY), but he’s getting tired of all the ‘kid’ jokes. Peter knows the team means well, but sometimes it feels like he has to work twice as hard to be taken seriously. Peter may be small and lean, but he can also lift a bus above himself with one hand, he’s not completely helpless. 

Peter makes it to the gym slightly out of breath and still wheezing slightly. He feels like one big ball of slime, moving sluggishly. He spots Steve already stretching in the center of the gym and waves with a smile, trying to himself get geared up for the day. 

“Hey, Pete,” Steve stands up with a welcoming smile, his eyes as sincere as always. Peter is always taken aback by Steve’s sheer size. Steve is easily 6 inches taller than Peter and about twice as broad. Peter has quiet strength; he is slim and toned, strong enough to lift a thousand times more than his body weight, but he doesn’t look intimidating. Steve, on the other hand, could lift just as much and looks the part. He is a wall of muscles and the pinnacle of fitness. 

Needless to say, Peter still gets nervous when he spars with Steve. Peter may be a good, clever fighter himself, but Steve looks like he could kill Peter with his pinky finger if he so wanted. 

(Those nerves are nothing compared to the ones that Peter gets when fighting Nat, but that’s besides the point.)

“Ready to go?” Steve asks. “Let’s get you started with a run.”

Peter almost groans out loud. Steve loves to run. Usually Peter does too, but his chest rattles angrily in protest today. Nevertheless, Peter remembers how necessary this training is and decides to suck it up. 

“Yessir!” Peter does a mock salute with a crooked, goofy grin on his face. Clint says he reminds him of a golden retriever when he smiles like that. Steve chuckles a little and pats him on the back with enough force to almost knock him to the ground. 

“Alright, it’s raining out, so let’s just do some laps around the gym.” The gym is big enough to be a track anyway. It’s a common understanding that by ‘some’ laps, Steve means way too many. 

Peter coughs a little mucus up quietly before falling into step with Steve. If Cap notices, he doesn’t think anything of the cough, because he continues at a steady pace that would leave most people in tears. 

Peter tries to make conversation as they run like he usually does, mentioning school and Ned and all other nerdy things that Steve likes to hear about, but the more they run, the worse he feels. Peter knows this feeling from a long time ago but he can’t quite place it. He feels like someone is squeezing his throat and chest, like a boa constrictor is wrapping around him. The feeling gets so bad that Peter suddenly stops running and puts his hands on his knees, taking in shallow, wheezing breaths that can’t seem to satisfy him. 

Steve stops as soon as Peter does, looking at him with alarm. “Pete? Buddy, what’s wrong?” Steve bends a little bit to look into Peter’s eyes. 

Peter is slowly inhaling as much as he can (not enough) with terrible, grating, wheezes. He’s getting scared now. He wants to answer Steve, but every breath is focused on getting into his lungs. He has no air to spare.

Something akin to recognition sparks in Steve’s eyes before the worry returns. “You’re having an asthma attack, Pete. You have asthma?”

It’s like cold water goes over Peter. He hasn’t thought about his asthma in years, since before the bite. He thought that he was rid of it completely. It dawns on him that maybe FRIDAY was right, and that he did have a respiratory infection that would have sparked one. 

That logic isn’t doing him much good now. His inhaler is in some box in his apartment, and hasn’t been used in years. 

Peter finds enough energy to give Steve a half-nod. His fingers are growing cold from the lack of oxygen. An attack this bad without an inhaler can kill Peter, and from the looks of things, probably will. 

Steve looks at him with sympathy and so much concern. “We’re going to medbay, now.” 

And to Peter’s mortification, he hooks his arms under his knees and lifts him off the ground like he weighs nothing. Steve starts running toward medbay like he’s in the midst of a battle. Peter is grateful that Steve must know enough about asthma to recognize how dire this is. Peter’s airways are close to closing. 

Peter squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on Steve’s gait and the in-out of air. He knows that panicking will only hurt him now, so he focuses on keeping a straight head. His airways are so tight that his breathing sounds almost like a whistle at this point. 

“Double time, FRIDAY,” Steve orders in his Captain voice as they step into the elevator, “and alert medbay that I’m coming to them with an asthma attack patient. Give them all his stats ahead of time.”

“On it, Captain Rodgers,” FRIDAY affirms. “And Mr. Parker, I would just like to point out that I warned you of this, if you had only listened to me, but no, when does that ever happe-”

Steve is running again before she can finish. 

The next few minutes are a deoxygenated blur for Peter. He remembers being taken out of Steve’s strong arms, he remembers a nebulizer being strapped to his face, he remembers Steve talking to the nurses and doctors, looking so, so worried. 

The next thing he can clearly remember happens after all the fuss dies down. The doctor, Dr. Cho, tells Steve that it was a close call. She recommends finding his inhaler and even writes out another prescription for if they can’t. For awhile after she leaves, Peter just sits up in bed, dazed, while Steve holds his cold fingers. 

Peter can feel his healing factor kicking in a bit (much too late, but still welcome). It’s still weak from whatever sickness he had before, but he can feel it loosening his airways again. Soon, it becomes a lot easier to breathe. Peter still has a deep ache in his chest, but he hasn’t felt this grateful for air since the 7th grade, when he had his last asthma attack.

Peter doesn’t know how long he and Steve just sit, breathing, before Mr. Stark barges through the door. 

“Jesus Christ, kid, what the hell?!” Mr Stark looks like he ran to the medbay. Peter can sees the lines in his hair from where his safety goggles sit, and knows that he came up from the lab. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” He tries to put his best ‘don’t-kill-me’ smile on his face. Maybe there’s a way that Peter can get out of this without being yelled at for going to train sick. “Can I just say that you look breathtaking this fine morning?”

Steve puts his head in his hands and deeply sighs like he wants to cry. 

Mr. Stark’s eye twitches. Peter didn’t even know it did that. Maybe it’s a new quirk. 

If there was a way to get out of being reprimanded, that apparently wasn’t it. Ned would’ve laughed. 

Mr. Stark closes his eyes completely for a moment, like he’s trying to gather himself. Eventually, he gives up. “I’m going to go call your Aunt May -”

“Aw, Mr. Stark, c’mon sir, she’ll kill me -”

“You,” he continues angrily, “will lay here, listen to directions for once in your life, and keep breathing. I need to know if she still has your inhaler.”

Mr. Stark leaves with that. Even though Peter knows that he’s mostly just worried, he’s super bummed out that Aunt May needs to find out. If Peter wanted to prove today that he doesn’t need a babysitter, he just took about 100 steps back. 

Peter fiddles with the tubes of the nebulizer, looking down at his hands. He’s very aware of Steve sitting next to him, watching him. 

“If you were sick today,” Steve begins carefully “there was no reason to come to training. It would’ve been fine to sit a day out.”

Steve crosses his arms across his chest. Peter still can’t look at him. He’s too embarrassed. 

His voice grows stern. Captain America, Peter’s leader, has entered the room. “However, it’s unacceptable to knowingly endanger yourself like that. You knew you were sick, you were being completely irresponsible by coming in anyway. If I can’t trust you to take care of yourself training, how can I trust you on the field in a battle? Peter, you need to -”

“I just want to help!” Peter exclaims. He feels so useless. Steve exudes power, and Peter is so useless compared to him. “Everyone is always saying ‘no, you’re too young’ and ‘no, you’re too small’ and I have this one chance to finally help out and prove myself and I can’t waste it!”

Steve leans forward with his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t look as Captain-y as he did before. He looks more like Steve. 

“Pete, I get it, I really do, but you can’t-”

Peter snorts a little bit. “You don’t get it, Cap! Look, I admire you so much, and you’re so awesome, and you fight so well, but you’ve never -”

“-had an asthma attack?” Steve’s eyebrows are almost to his hairline and he’s smiling like something’s really funny. “Pete, did you know before they let me in the army I had asthma, scoliosis, stomach ulcers, high blood pressure, the whole nine yards? You name it, I had it. No one thought I would live past 20 in the 40s. And one day I got the chance to show them how much more I was, that I wasn’t just some sick, tiny kid from Brooklyn.”

Peter’s a little speechless. He knew Cap must’ve grown a lot after the serum, but he didn’t know about the rest. He feels really dumb.

“But I did it when it was safe for me to do it, son.” Steve’s voice is softer now, more sympathetic, passionate. He cups the back of Peter’s neck in one huge hand. “I know it sucks to be small, and I know it sucks to be sick. I know you must feel like the whole team is down on you. But we’re trying to do our best for you. You’re still learning, Peter, and I know you hate it, but you’re still so young. You have to abide by our rules if you want to do this for real some day.” 

“I know,” Peter sighs, beaten down by those damn sincere eyes. “I’m sorry, Steve, I’ll listen better, I promise. I didn’t even know I still had asthma since after the bite.”

“Well, at least now we know to watch out for it.” Steve brings his hand up to ruffle his hair before standing up and stretching. 

“I’m gonna go help Tony deal with your scary aunt,” Steve says, grinning. He grows a little more serious. “You stay right there, I mean it. I’ll send someone else down to keep you company.”

Peter snaps a lazy mock salute with his crooked, goofy grin, and falls back against the pillows as Steve leaves. He hates medbay, but he doesn’t dare disobey Steve and Mr. Stark twice in one day. 

Just wait, Peter thinks, closing his eyes. One day they’ll realize how useful this kid can be. 

And with that, he pulls out his phone and watches hilarious vine compilations that Ned and MJ keep sending him until Clint arrives with promises of kicking his butt in Mario Kart (even more hilarious).

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave feedback and kudos if you so wish. I'm open to prompts!


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